
Qass. 
Book. 



I 







'^ 



\ 




WITHIN THE HALO OF OUR VVATCHFIRES 



Fi-ontispiece 





SPORT IN WAR 1 





^ , BY MAJOR-GENERAL 

I R^^ s^'baden-powell,^ 





F.R.G.S. 




tViik Nineteen Illustrahons by the Author 




mew i^ock 

FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 
1900 











By Transfer 

0. (,. Public Llbwry 

PE3 2 6 1938 




(^ 



74268 




PREFACE 



TT scans desirable to write a few words 
of preface to this book^ chiefly zvith 
the object of stating wJiat it is : a reprint 
of sketches which have appeared in the 
Badminton Magazine. Before the first 
number was published in August 1895, 
/ ivas gratified l\v receiving from Major 
j^ R. S. S. Baden-Powell the offer of an 
dwut Pig-sticking^ illustrated as 
ivritten by himself ^ and called 
'yoi't of Rajahs y I knew that 

7 









he wrote and drew as ivell as he did a 
great variety of things, and gladly 
accepted the paper, which appeared as 
the first article in the second number. I 
told him I should always be delighted to 
receive anything he cared to send, and 
from time to time other contributions 
followed. Then came a pause, while 
this most zvonderful of all-round men ('S 
ivas occupied with sterner work. This 
is not the place to dilate upon the feverish 
eai'nestness and anxiety with ivhich for 
many months the eyes of the civilised 
ivorld were turned to Maf eking, nor 
upon the almost delirious joy with which 
news of the relief ivas at last welcomed. 
The Commander of the little town has 




iM 




PREFACE 

made for himself an imperishable name^ 
not only by the gallantry and marvellous 
resource that marked his defence of the 
place, but by the unfailing cheerfulness 
with which he sustained and revived the 
spirits of soldiers and civilians under his 
charge. The personality of the General, 
all that he said and did, had said and 
done, became matters of intense interest, 
and naturally induced me to turn up 
these sketches, only again to be delighted 
by their freshness, vigour and charm. 
To preserve them in book form became 
at once my keen desire. The only point 
to be considered was the author's views 
on the subject, I therefore cabled to 
Mafeking, and after a long wait, which 



^V1 



1^ 






PREFACE 

made mc fear that the message must 

have gone astray^ his laconic consent \ 
%S ^^^'^^ from Rtistenbitrgy in the single 

word: YES. And here is the little 

^^^ book^ proving the General to be not less 

^ master of pen and pencil than of the 

sword. 



ALFRED E. T. WATSON 

(Editor, P>AD\fiNTON Magazine). ^'^^ 








j»KT*o 





'^m 







ILLUSTRATIONS 

Within the halo of our WatchfinS Frontispiece 

Slowly moving over the boulders of the river-bed 

Watching the river-bed . 

He turned about, growling savagely 

The Uitspan is the scene of our meet 

Members of our motley field . 

George acting as leading hound 

They stream away before us . 

A veteran hand at the game . 

Lutchman, the shikaree, standing on his 

elephant, holloas the party on . 
Calvert rolls the boar head over heels ivith a 

crashing stroke ... 
13 






ILLUSTRATIONS 

She looked almost as if she were lesting aftev a 

bout oj tennis {fiom a photograph) . 
The King of Eastern Spofts . 
The hunters hunted .... 
He was able to grip the spear 
Tommy Atkins pig-sticking . 
The captain, who was leading, pushed in first 
It was a great fight .... 
Hadj A no's camp .... 
Hadj A no 




119 
127 
145 
151 
159 
i73 
179 
189 
199 





SPORT IN WAR 





& 

m 

j^^ 




SPORT IN WAR 




HAT sort of sport did 
you have out there ?" 
is the question with 
which men have, as 
a rule, greeted one on return from 
the campaign in Rhodesia ; and one 
could truthfully say, ^'We had ex- 
cellent sport." For, in addition to 
the ordinary experiences included 
under that head, the work involved 
in the military operations was suffi- 
ciently sporting in itself to fill up a 
good measure of enjoyment. 








SPORT IN WAR 
In the first place, scouting played 
a very prominent part in the pre- 
liminaries to major operations, and 
gave opportunities for the exercise 
of all the arts and resources of wood- 
craft, coupled with the excitement 
incidental to contending against wild 
beasts of the human kind — men of 
special cunning, pluck, and cruelty. 

This scouting, to be successful, 
necessitated one's going with the 
very slenderest escort — frequently 
with one man only, to look after the 
horses — and for long distances away 
from our main body, into the dis- 
tricts occupied by the enemy. Thus, 
one was thrown entirely on one's 
own resources, with the stunulating 
knowledge that if you did not main- 
tain a sufficient alertness of observa- 
i8 





SPORT IN WAR 
tioii and action, you stood a very 
good chance indeed, not only of 
failing to gain information which 
you were desired to seek, but also of 
getting yourself wiped out, as many 
a better man had been before, by the 
ruthless, bloodthirsty foe. 

'' Spooring," or tracking, was our 
main source of guidance and infor- 
mation, and night the cover under 
which we were able to make our way 
about the enemy's country with im- 
punity. For a pastime involving all 
the points that go to make up 
** sport " in the eyes of the Briton — 
viz., hard work, adventure, general 
discomfort, and genuine fun — com- 
mend me to scouting. 

Then the actual tackling the enemy 
was not, especially during the latter 
19 








SPORT IN WAR 

part of the operations, of the cut- 
and-dried order of tactics. There 
was no drawing up of opposing 
forces in battle-array, or majestic ad- 
vancing of earth-shaking squadrons 
to the clash of arms ; but you had to 
approach a koppie or peak of piled- 
up granite boulders, where not an 
enemy was visible, but which you 
knew was honeycombed with caves 
and crannies all full of watching 
niggers fingering guns of every kind 
and calibre. You were expected to 
climb up this loopholed pyramid to 
gain the entrance to its caves, which 
was somewhere near the top, as a 
rule, and if you were lucky enough 
to escape an elephant bullet from one 
side or another, or a charge of slugs 
from a crevice underfoot, you had 

20 






SPORT IN WAR 
the privilege of firing a few shots 
down the drain-like entrance to the 
cave, and of then lowering yourself 
quickly after them into the black un- 
certainty below. Although I never 
appreciated this form of sport at its 
proper worth, there were many in 
our forces who did. It cannot be 
denied that there was a ^^ glorious 
uncertainty " about it, such as could 
not be surpassed in any other variety 
of amusement. 

Then, when the enemy had been 
hard hit and driven from their posi- 
tions, it became necessary to hunt 
them up with flying patrols and 
small columns. This took us into 
wild and distant corners of the 
country, and, until their surrender 
was obtained, this man-hunting 












SPORT IN WAR 
afforded us plenty of excitement and 
novel experience. 

In addition to military operations 
such as these, we saw something of 
the actual sport proper of the country, 
since supplies, especially of meat, 
were very scarce with us. Therefore 
the game-laws were by special ordin- 
ance suspended, and we availed our- 
selves of every opportunity to get 
buck or other food. In many dis- 
tricts we found it sufficiently abun- 
dant, while in others the fatal scourge 
ot rinderpest had done its work — 
especially among the koodoo — and 
had decimated the former troops of 
game. 

We got, at various times, koodoo, 
sable, and roan antelope, wildebeeste, 
hartebeeste, reit-buck, stein-buck, 

22 










g 






SPORT IN WAR 
duyker, hares, wild-pig, quagga, and 
twice our patrols saw giraffe. Then 
of birds we saw ostriches and shot 
paaiiw, korhan, so-called pheasants, 
partridges, guinea-fowl, duck, and 
plover. And in many of the streams 
the men caught fish, which, though in 
London they might be considered 
somewhat overcharged with bones 
and mud, yet served as a pleasing 
variation to our daily fare of tinned 
ration beef. 

The pleasures of the pursuit of 
game were all the more enhanced by 
the knowledge that the meat was 
really necessary to us, and especially 
by the fact that w^e often carried out 
our sport at the risk of being our- 
selves the quarry of some sneaking 
band of rebel warriors. 
23 



I 








lif' ■ 



SPORT IN WAR 
Moreover, to all our fun a season- 
ing was added in the shape of lions, 
whose presence or propinquity was 
very frequently impressed upon us 
at nights by deep-toned grunts or 
ghostly apparitions within the halo 
of our watchfires. In defiance of 
the rules of war — which forbid the 
use of fires by night, as guiding an 
enemy's night attack — we had a ring 
of bright fires burning round our 
bivouac to scare away the lions. 
Frequently our sentries fired upon 
them as they kept a waiting watch, 
prowling from point to point outside 
our line of men. But, in spite of 
such precautions, on one occasion 
they took one of our horses, and on 
another they carried off a mule. 
By day we saw them too. One 



I'm 

Mi 















TrM% 4 M p. /if, J '/,• ■' ■ ' . 




SPORT IN WAR 
patrol, indeed, came upon a group 
of nine lying dozing in the bush ; 
and when the nine arose and yawned 
and stretched their massive jaws and 
Hmbs, the patrol, remembering the 
old maxim concerning the rela- 
tions between discretion and valour, 
changed the course of their advance 
and took another line. 

One time, when I was patrolling 
the bank of the Shangani River with 
three men, the massive form of a 
lion was seen slowly moving over 
the boulders of the river-bed. The 
corporal and I jumped off our horses 
in a moment, and fired a volley // 
deuXy at about i8o yards. One shot 
thudded into him, the other striking 
the ground just under his belly. He 
sprang with a light bound over a rock 

27 















SPORT IN WAR 
and disappeared from our view. 
Posting one man on a high point on 
the bank to watch the river-bed, and 
leaving the other in charge of our 
horses, the corporal and I made our 
way down to where we had last seen 
the lion. We were armed with Lee- 
Metford carbines, and we turned on 
our magazines in order to have a 
good running fire available should 
our quarry demand it. 

Meantime our main body, coming 
along the opposite bank of the river, 
had seen our manoeuvre, and an 
ofBcer and one man had come down 
into the river-bed from their side to 
help us. 

Gradually and cautiously we sur- 
rounded the spot where we guessed 
the lion to be — cautiously, at least. 





SPORT IN WAR 
as far as three of us were concerned; 
the fourth, the man who had come 
from the main body, was moving 
in a far freer and more confident 
manner than any of us could boast ; 
he clambered over the rocks and 
sprang with agility into the most 
likely corners for finding a wounded 
lion lying ambushed, and his sole 
weapon was his revolver — for he was 
a farrier. Such is Tommy Atkins ; 
whether it is the outcome of sheer 
pluck, or of ignorance, or of both 
combined, the fact remains that he 
will sail gaily in where danger lies, 
and as often as not sail gaily out 
again unharmed. 

However, to continue : at last we 
were on the spot, but no lion was 
there — an occasional splash of blood. 






EF^ 



■^^ 




SPORT IN WAR 
and here and there, where sand lay 
between the rocks, the impress of a 
mighty paw, showed that he had 
moved away after being hit. But 
soon all traces ceased, and though 
we searched for long we could find 
no further sign of him. 

We halted on the river-bank during 
the intense heat of the day, and before 
resuming our march in the evening 
we sallied out once more to search 
the river-bed and an islet grown with 
bushes, where we hoped he might 
yet be. And while we searched the 
hussar, who had been assigned to 
me to hold my horse, and who was 
the man who, in the morning, had 
been posted to watch the river-bed, 
asked, ^' How many lions are there 
supposed to be here ? " I told him 



SPORT IN WAR 
^' Only the one we fired at this 
morning." 

Whereupon he grimly said, '^ Oh, 
I saw him go away up the river when 
you went down into it. He was a- 
dragging his hindquarters after him," 

It appeared that the man thought 
he had been posted to guard against 
surprise by an enemy, and did not 
reaUse that we, being down among 
the rocks, could not see the lion 
which was so visible from his look- 
out place. And so we lost that lion. 

But I had better luck another 
time. 

It stands thus recorded in my 
diary : * 

"lo/// October. — [To be marked 

■'• Vide. "The Matabele Campaign, 1896/' 
by the writer. 

33 








SPORT IN WAR 
with a red mark vvlien I can get a 
red pencil.) Jackson and a native 
' boy ' accompanied me scouting this 
morning ; we three started off at 
3 A.M. In moving round the hill 
that overlooks our camp we saw a 
match struck high up near the top 
of the mountain. This one little 
spark told us a good deal. It showed 
that the enemy were there ; that they 
were awake and alert (I say 'they/ 
because one nigger would not dare 
to be up there by himself in the dark) ; 
and they were aware of our force 
being at Posselt's (as otherwise they 
would not be occupying this hill). 

*' However, they could not see any- 
thing of us, as it was then quite dark. 
And we went farther on among the 
mountains. In the early morning 
34 




SPORT IN WAR 
light we crossed the deep river-bed 
of the Umchingwe River, and, in 
doing so, noticed the fresh spoor of 
ii Hon in the sand. We went on and 
had agood look at the enemy's strong- 
hold ; and on our way back, as we 
approached this river-bed, agreed to 
go quietly, in case the lion should 
be moving about in it. On looking 
down over the bank, my heart jumped 
into my mouth when I saw a grand 
old brute just walking in behind a 
bush. Jackson did not see him, but 
was off his horse as quickly as I was, 
and ready with his gun : too ready, 
indeed, for the moment that the lion 
appeared, walking majestically out 
from behind the bush that had hidden 
him, Jackson fired hurriedly, striking 
the ground under his foot, and, as we 
35 










S;PORT IN WAR 
afterwards discovered, knocking off 
one of his claws. 

"The Hon tossed up his shaggy 
head and looked at us in dignified 
surprise. Then I fired and hit him 
with a leaden bullet from the Lee- 
Metford. He reeled, sprang round, 
and staggered a few paces, when 
p Jackson, who was using a Martini- 
Henry, let him have one in the 
shoulder. This knocked him over 
sideways, and he turned about, 
growling savagely. 

" I could scarcely believe that we 
had got a lion at last, but resolved to 
make sure of it ; so, telling Jackson 
not to fire unless it was necessary 
(for fear of spoiling the skin with the 
larger bullet of the Martini), I went 
down closer to the beast and fired a 
36 







HE TURNED ABOUT, GROWLING SAVAGELY 






SPORT IN WAR 

shot at the back of his neck as he 
turned his head momentarily away 
from me. The bullet went through 
his spine and came out through the 
lower jaw, killing him. 

'' We were pretty delighted at our 
success, but our nigger was mad with 
happiness, for a dead lion — provided 
he is not a man-eater — has many 
invaluable gifts for a Kaffir, in the 
shape of love-philtres, charms against 
disease or injury, and medicines that 
produce bravery. It was quite de- 
lightful to shake hands with the 
mighty paws of the dead lion, to 
pull at his magnificent tawny mane, 
and to look into his great, deep, 
yellow eyes. Then we set to work 
to skin him ; two of us skinning 
while the other kept watch in case 












SPORT IN WAR 
of the enemy sneaking up to catch 
us while we were thus occupied. 
We found that he was very fat, and 
also that he had been much wounded 
by porcupines, portions of whose 
quills had pierced the skin, and 
lodged in his flesh in several places. 
Our nigger cut out the eyes, gall- 
bladder, and various bits of the lion's 
anatomy, as fetish medicine. I filled 
my carbine-bucket with some of the 
fat, as I knew my two 'boys,' Diamond 
and M'tini, would very greatly value 
it. Then, after hiding the head in a 
neighbouring bush where we could 
find it again, we packed the skin on 
to one of the ponies and returned 
to camp mightily pleased with our- 
selves." 



^•' 
^ 




A RUN WITH THE CAPE 
FOXHOUNDS 



A RUN WITH THE CAPE 
FOXHOUNDS 






HE setting sun is slowly 
withdrawing his broad 
warm hand from off 
the land as we steam 
out by the evening train from the 
chill and darkling shadow of Table 
Mountain, and rattle off across the 
^^ Flats " for the hunting - ground 
beyond. 

Our Colonial railway system may 
not be so speedy as those at home, 
but it is infinitely more advanced in 




A RUN WITH THE 
one particular : its hunting rates for 
horses, hounds, and men are of the 
very lowest. Therefore, with bless- 
ings on a directorate so sporting, 
we seldom fail to largely patronise 
the rail for hunting meets. But to- 
night we are not many in the train ; 
besides the Master and myself (who 
act as whip) there are no members 
of the hunt aboard. To-morrow a 
new Governor is to arrive from 
England, and all the garrison must 
be there to see him safely in. But, 
in order that the farmers of the 
district may not miss their fun, a 
special dispensation from parade has 
been granted to the Master and 
myself, and thus we find ourselves 
travelling forth to take up our, night's 
quarters at Maasfontein, in readiness 
44 







CAPE FOXHOUNDS 
for daybreak hunting ere the dew 
has left the grass and the sun has 
parched the scent. 

In less than an hour we have 
reached the lonely little station, 
and, after disembarking hounds and 
horses, we jog away in the gathering 
darkness over the two miles that 
separate us from the village. Our 
baggage we carry with us, as the 
custom of the country is, in saddle- 
bags. In a hollow in the open 
downs we come upon the village, 
and as we pass its single, long, tree- 
shaded street, the men and house- 
wives peer out from their lamplit 
doors. We lodge both hounds and 
horses in the stables of the single- 
storeyed village inn, and here we find 
a number of our hunting farmers 
45 




A RUN WITH THE 
who have come over in their wag- 
gons for the meet ; for every Dutch- 
man's waggon forms his travelling 
home for markets, meets, or fairs. 
And, while we tackle supper, they sit 
around and smoke, and talk of what 
the sport will be. 

What quaint old fellows are these 
rugged bearded Dutchmen ! Slow, 
well-nigh to denseness, outwardly, 
yet in reality full of sporting in- 
stinct, and also quick enough to see 
and to resent any display of English 
hauteur or attempt to patronise. 
They have simply to be treated as 
equals and as friends ; the true free- 
masonry of sport will do the rest. 
It is a pleasure to see how their dull 
faces can light up and their whole 
demeanour change as they begin to 
46 



># 

\^\^ 




CAPE FOXHOUNDS 
talk on sport. After giving a hopeful 
view of prospects for the morrow, 
the conversation turns on other lines, 
and soon we are thrilled with vivid 
tales of bygone days when lions and 
tuskers formed the quarry in these 
same districts, where now we scarce 
can find a jackal. 

But these sportsmen are not late 
sitters, and just as one is beginning 
to think whether it is quite good 
enough to hear another lion story at 
the risk of being asphyxiated with 
the reek of gin and Boer tobacco, 
they rise, and, with their hoarse 
''Goode-nachts,"they clatter out into 
the darkness towards their several 
travelling bedrooms. Nor do we long 
outsit them, for, as the pig-sticking 
song says, 

47 







A RUN WITH THE 

To-morrow, by dawn, we must be on our 
ground. 

After a final sup of whisky from our 
private stock, and a glance round 
the stable and the temporary kennel 
in the wash-house, we turn into 
our beds in the one bare empty 
room. 

Our sleep is soon slept. The un- 
rest natural to night before a hunting 
day, like John Peel's cry, soon ''calls 
me from my bed," and I slip out and 
indulge in a glorious ''tub" in the 
horse-trough in front of the inn. It 
is just daybreak, or, as the Dutchmen 
term it, "the light for seeing the 
horns of an ox"; a glow is in the 
sky behind the eastward hills, and on 
the village camp-ground the twin- 
kling fires show that the farmers' 
48 




rhj 









^^ 



m 



m 



CAPE FOXHOUNDS 
"boys" are preparing the morning 
coffee. 

An hour later this same camp- 
ground, or *^ uitspan," as it is called, 
is the scene of our meet. 

The farmers soon join us, mounted 
on their wiry unkempt little horses, 
their rusty bits and stirrups being as 
unlike the turn-out of the English 
hunting-field as are the riders' cor- 
duroy trousers, hobnailed boots, and 
wide flapping hats. But, dirty and 
ragged though they be, the horses 
are both clever and quick in bad 
ground, and wiry and enduring to 
an extent that would hardly be 
expected from their narrow chests 
and quarters ; while the riders, stolid 
and grumpy as is their demeanour, 
will rouse up like schoolboys and go 
49 













J 



A RUN WITH THE 
with the keenest when once there is 
fox afoot. 

Cups of coffee from the ox-dung 
camp-fires are passed around, and 
then the everlasting pipes come out 
and are filled by the simple method 
of plunging them into the capacious 
coat-pocket, which is kept tilled with 
loose "Boer" tobacco. The strong 
aroma hangs as heavily as its blue 
smoke on the raw morning air, and 
promises a tine scenting morning as 
we trot away from the uitspan towards 
our hunting-ground. 

Our hounds would perhaps look 
strange at home — their best admirer 
could scarcely call them a level lot ; 
but this need not be wondered at 
when it is remembered that we have 
to take what we can get from kind- 
50 



CAPE FOXHOUNDS 
hearted Masters all over England. 
The fatal "dog-sickness" of South 
Africa plays such havoc in the course 
of a season as to necessitate a fresh 
draft from home every year. Shipping 
charges are very high, and the funds 
of the hunt are per contra very low, 
so it is not surprising that our pack 
is a somewhat mixed one. But, 
although "a rum 'un to look at," it 
is a "good 'un to go," and every 
hound in it, this fine hunting morning, 
looks hard and fit for anything. 

At their head rides our Master, as 
fine a specimen of the British soldier- 
sportsman as you would meet in a 
day's march. (Poor Turner ! he 
gave up the hounds not long after 
the day I am here describing, and 
he now lies buried on the banks of 










A RUN WITH THE 
the Sabi, away there beyond Masho- 
naland.) 

Beside myself rides George, our 
whip, a Cape lad of nondescript 
breed, but especially useful in our 
hunting-field from his proficiency in 
the art of ''spooring" or tracking 
the jackal over the frequent sand 
patches, which do not carry scent. 

As we rise the hill above the village 
the neighbouring country imfolds 
itself before us in a succession of 
undulations of grass and fallow land 
and occasional patches of low scrub 
and heather. There are no fences 
beyond occasional boundary banks, 
drainage ditches, and dry water- 
courses. Away to the east and 
north the downs run up into moun- 
tains, while to the westward lie the 








CAPE FOXHOUNDS 
" Flats," sandy heath-covered plains, 
some eight miles in extent, with the 
grey-blue mass of Table Mountain 
rising stark and sheer from out the 
sea beyond them. 

Look where you will — except for 
two or three widely distant clumps 
of trees, with their white farm- 
buildings among them — there is 
little to show that the country is a 
populous colony. Most of the farms 
and villages, being built near water, 
lie hidden in the folds of the ground. 

The long, broad shadows cast by 
the rising sun across the dewy downs 
are slowly growing shorter as we jog 
along towards the dark heath-grown 
hillside that is our first cover. But 
ere we reach it a fresh delay occurs. 
Over the brow before us there rise 
55 











A RUN WITH THE 
first the white tilt and then the 
nodding horses of a "Cape cart" 
trotting fast to meet us. Within it 
is De VilHers, or, as the rest pro- 
nounce it, **Filjee," a sporting-hearted 
farmer, who, although he does not 
ride himself, loves to see others do 
it boldly if not well, and to that end 
he never fails to bring a good supply 
of "jumping powder" and other 
similar aids to horsemanship. 

In the present case this diversion 
is particularly conducive to sport, as 
it serves to keep our usually over- 
energetic field well occupied while 
hounds are drawing cover. The 
Master waves them in, and George 
and I take up our places at opposite 
corners to view the fox away. From 
where I stand below the crest I see 



Lt;^. 






CAPE FOXHOUNDS 

but little of the cover and of hounds 
at work within it, but other entertain- 
ment comes to me. Anon there is 
the slightest rustle in the bush, and 
stealthily a hare slips out and squats 
quite motionless a few yards from 
me ; she hearkens backward, her 
great dark eyes bright-glistening in 
the sunlight; then she turns and 
hunches in again, but a minute later 
the Master's cheering voice again 
sends her palpitating on to the open ; 
a moment's pause, and then away 
she lits adown the slope and scampers 
off to other hiding-places. Now 
creeping up towards me, close along 
the heather's edge, there comes a 
string of brown-grey partridges all 
scuttling fast in frightened hurry. I 
wonder who gives them their orders ? 







A RUN WITH THE 

They act upon them instantaneously. 
''Halt!" they all crouch. ''Heads 
up ! " " Fly ! " Whirr ! and the whole 
brown covey are off together down 
across the ravine ; then, with stiffened 
wings, they rise the other slope : a 
sudden wheel, then slide up and up 
the grassy shoulder without a single 
flutter till they overtop 

Hark — a whimper! No — yes — 
another ! Followed by the anxious 
cry of others owning to it. 

"Tally-ho! Gone away!" 
screeches George at the bottom 
corner. 

With a horse like my old "Toulon," 
who knows his business, my shortest 
way is smack through the cover. So 
mto it we go ; plunging here, jump- 
ing there, through the heavy heath 
58 






CAPEJ70XH0UNDS 

and scrub. As we come over the 
hill-top the fun is spread before us. 
Just in time we are to view him cross 
the ridge in front — a fine old fox, 
looking somewhat like the little rover 
of Old England, but, being longer in 
the leg, he does not stretch himself 
so close along the ground. 

Hounds in cheery chorus are 
stretching after him, gleaming white 
and mottled on the green grass slope. 
And George, not far behind them, in 
his pink and leathers, riding a bright 
bay gelding, completes a hunting 
picture of the brightest colouring, 
that in the instant photographs itself 
upon the mind. 

And now the Master is through the 
brook-bog in the bottom, and in our 
turn we scramble through, bringing 
6i 




A RUN WITH THE 
on the last tail hounds from out the 
cover. Then, while we breast the 
slope, a backward glance shows all 
our motley field are tearing down to 
follow us. Now we top the rise and 
find an open stretch before us ; scent 
is good, and hounds are racing well 
together. 'Tis grand to gallop thus 
over such good ground, with hounds 
lying well away before us, and the 
field coming equally well behind ; 
while the keen morning air, lighten- 
ing up the lungs to the extremity of 
buoyancy, gives one a taste of life 
that is divine. 

The going is chiefly rough, long 
grass, whose only fault' is treachery, 
in the shape of '^ant-bear holes." 
These are the burrows of the ant- 
eater, more commonly known as the 
6a 






'h 





CAPE FOXHOUNDS 
ant-bear or ardvark (^^ earth-hog"). 
Luckily, they are not in this district 
so plentiful as in Natal and Zululand ; 
and yet one hole is quite enough to 
spoil your hunting for the day, if not 
for ever. The ant-heaps, too, are 
obstacles, but honest ones, because 
they are not invisible. But on we 
fly, as though such things existed 
not, and the pace is good enough to 
take us clean away from all our 
following ; but, luckily for them, 
before we've had two miles of this 
most glorious burst, a cowboy heads 
the fox. He turns his line and takes 
adown a valley to our left, and here 
he finds a thick and scrubby cover 
from which lead many blind ravines. 
A check, while hounds endeavour 
to worry out the line, gives pause for 









A RUN WITH THE 
the field to come bustling up. Then 
some dismount to ease their blowing 
nags, while others ride around to 
help, as they suppose, the non- 
plussed hounds. Their noisy babel, 
as they talk about the run and chaff 
late-comers, would annoy one were 
it not so ludicrous to see how much 
a gallop moves these Dutchmen from 
their cold stolidity. 

Now one young hand, supposing 
all is over, off-saddles, as his custom 
is, and leaves his horse to roll ; but 
at that moment hounds once more 
hit off the line, and helter-skelter, off 
we pelt, leaving this young man to 
gain experience. Onward down the 
long hillside we press, now bending 
right, now swinging left, but ever 
edging on towards the '' Plats." A 
64 









CAPE FOXHOUNDS 
ditch and boundary bank next cause 
some grief, and farther on an ugly 
dry ravine brings down the Master 
and turns a large proportion of the 
held to seek another way. 

Hounds now are tailing off a bit. 
Young Ranger leads the rest, as is his 
wont, by quite a hundred yards : 
he's far too fast, but we cannot well 
afford to trim our pack, else might 
we well dispense with Colleen, too — 
a small dark bitch, whose only place 
is at the Master's heels ; and even 
when he's down, she waits to see him 
safely up again. 

Our fox now runs us through a 
farmstead, where, among the cattle- 
kraals, we get some stone-wall lep- 
ping. At length we reach the tract 
of heath and dunes that forms the 
65 




^M 



A RUN WITH THE 
" Flats/' and scent falls light and 
catchy. Slow hunting here becomes 
the order of the day, with now and 
then a sudden burst along some 
grassy bottom. The field, though 
much reduced in numbers, is more 
than ever keen, and follows close — 
too close — upon the hounds. 

'^ Now, Wanderer, my lad, what is 
it ? Lame ? " No, worse ! Ay, 
poor old hound, he leaves the line, 
with drooping head and stern, and 
walks aside, just glancing up, as if to 
say, " Don't mind me, old friend, go 
on and see it out " ; and he flings 
himself, quite helpless, down behind 
a bush. A little Kaffir tending cows 
close by agrees to nurse him, and, if 
he lives, to bring him home ; but 
the hunt will never see old Wanderer 
66 







m 



CAPE FOXHOUNDS 
again. Dog-sickness always for its 
victims seems to take the best. 

With sorrow at my heart, I push 
along to overtake the bobbing crov/d 
in front, and find them checked 
beside a stretch of open sand. Here 
all scent fails, and George, on foot, 
is taking up the spoor, hounds 
following in an interested group. 
Upon the sand the tracks show 
where the fox has stopped to listen 
and then has doubled on his trail. 
Into the bush once more, and — 
Tally-ho ! — he jumps up right before 
us. What a screech of men and 
hounds ! Old Piet Nielmann rushes 
past me, lambasting his fully-blown 
horse with a heavy sjambok, till a 
sturdy tussock stretches both the 
rider and his horse upon the sand. 
67 










A RUN WITH THE 
The crowd go racing on. Over 
yonder rise our fox is viewed ; a 
minute later we are there, and see 
the fun below. He doubles in some 
grass, and round the beauties come, 
just like a flock of pigeons wheeling 
— a crash, a snarl, and they roll him 
over in the bottom. Whowhoop ! 

And while he is broken up in the 
good old way, the knot of panting 
men and horses is gradually added 
to by stragglers coming up to join 
the chatter and the talk about the 
run. 

Then pipes are lit, and, in the best 
of moods, we make our way once 
more towards the upland, where the 
farm of " Filjee " stands out white 
upon the hillside, bare except for 
this one group of trees and build- 
68 





GEORGE ACTING AS LEADING HOUND 



CAPE FOXHOUNDS 

ings. On drawing near we find a 
plain-faced single-storeyed house, 
with windows blinded by a formal 
row of pollard-trees set close in front. 
Upon the stoep or terrace-step, De 
Villiers and his fraii receive iis. 
Within the steamy room (whose 
windows never open) we find a 
plentiful repast laid out, of beef, 
black bread, and succotash, backed 
by an imposing display of bottles 
holding " square-face " gin, pontac, 
and van-der-Hum. But little time is 
lost in reconnoitring this formidable 
array, and our hungry sportsmen 
spring to the attack as hounds from 
leash. Once at it, they are fixed. 
Still, we know the scent which has 
favoured us so far may not last all 
day, so, after a welcome snack and a 
71 



W^K 



'^-^^ 



'3 




A RUN WITH THE 
toast to our sporting entertainer, a 
few of us move out to go afield 
again. But not so the majority : 
with them the lunch is half the 
hunt : they feel they've had their 
run, and now enjoy its complement. 
So as we jog away to covers 
higher in the hills, we find our field 
reduced to three, and those three 
not likely, with their overweighted 
mounts, to carry on for long if the 
run has any pace. At the cross a 
spruit running out of a little bushy 
glen, hounds suddenly break and 
feather on a trail, and, bustling up 
the ravine, they pick up a gradually 
improving scent. Forrard ! Forrard ! 
On to a long swelling down we go, 
over the level for a space, and then a 
heavy breather up to the top ; those 
7« 



«^1 




CAPE FOXHOUNDS 
whose mounts are well shouldered 
have the best of it striding down the 
further slope. Through a network 
of dry watercourses, where the scent 
falls light, they hit it off on a grand 
level plateau beyond. Then we get 
a real good ding-dong gallop that 
soon polishes off our little field, 
and leaves us three alone to follow 
hounds, while praying that we too 
may not get left. The line has led 
us straight, without a swerve, towards 
a conical hill, whose pointed heath- 
clad top has often served us for a 
landmark ; and hounds are tailing 
out a bit on the lower slopes as the 
line takes us round its base. Now 
Ranger, who is far ahead, swerves 
suddenly, then circles round, the 
others cast about. A check at last ! 
73 



wM 



g^ 


m 




M 




m 




m 



A RUN WITH THE 

the first in tliirty minutes. Ranter 
has it ! but for a moment only ; he 
brings it up a watercourse, and 
there's the earth before us in an 
overhanging bank. 

It should be an easy one to dig, 
^' had we but weapons handy." And 
so they are. Over the next rise 
there peeps some trees — the trees of 
Swartzkop Farm. George canters 
off, and soon is back with pick and 
spade. We link our three horses all 
together with their reins, and, while 
George and I proceed to dig, the 
Master holds the pack away. 

Quick work we are making with 
the bank when, without a moment's 
warning, through a cloud of dust be- 
tween us, there springs out the great 
red ^* Jack," and flies away before 
74 




b^ 






\^^ 



CAPE FOXHOUNDS 
the very noses of the pack. For one 
short instant they scarce reahse the 
case, but then they swoop upon the 
hne with a screaming chorus that 
would wake the dead. Indeed, it 
wakes something more important 
than the dead : it causes our horses 
to throw up their heads, and, with- 
out a moment's hesitation, to start in 
pursuit, in no little gaiety of heart at 
finding themselves without the usual 
burden of their riders. Helplessly 
we, in our turn, start to follow ; but 
they are streaming away over the 
shoulder before us, while we, pound- 
ing in our top-boots through heavy 
grass and heather, find ourselves 
well pumped within a hundred 
yards. The hounds are gone, the 
horses top the sky-line, still tied head 
75 D 










A RUN WITH THE 
to head, but galloping with all their 
might ; they disappear, and after 
them, more faithful to the Master's 
horse than Master, there goes Col- 
leen. They're gone ! We pause, and, 
blowing hard, we make a few appro- 
priate remarks. And then we turn 
to climb the peak in hopes, at least, 
of seeing how the hunt may end. 
We struggle up and clamber, none 
the better for our boots and spurs 
and feverish haste. Anon we pause 
for breath, when lo, behind us, the 
fox is pounding heavily up the hill ! 
He has completely circled round it, 
and again is making for the earths 
that lie beside us. But close upon 
his brush there follows Ranger, ever 
to the fore, with all the ruck not 
many yards behind. Now Ranger's 
76 




almost on him 
foe. 

Each rears on end with an angry 
worry at the other's throat, but in a 
second more the white and mottled 
avalanche is on them, and it is a 
struggling mass of tugging, growling 
hounds that we spring into with 
"Whowhoop!" 



M 




m^ 







,N the deep shade of a 

mango tope, in the 

Meerut Kadir, a camp 

was pitched for the 

Christmas pig-sticking meet. Among 

some adjoining trees a few more 

tents formed the temporary home of 

some ladies who had come out to 

the jungle to witness the sport. 

Among these were Edna Clay and 
her mother. 

(Had they been English people 
83 





THE ORDEAL 

I should possibly have referred to 
them in the reverse order ; but 
with Americans the relative import- 
ance of the members of a family is, 
as a rule, in an inverse ratio to that 
which obtains in England. The 
American fathers and brothers come 
at the back-end of the list, while the 
daughter of the house leads at the 
head.) 

The Clays had been wintering in 
Meerut, where the good climate and 
the social cheeriness of the large 
military station contributed to make 
it an agreeable substitute for the 
usual Continental watering - places 
that form the habitat of Americans 
blizzarded out of their own country. 

Having many friends among the 
6th Hussars at Meerut, the ladies had 
84 






OF THE SPEAR 
been readily persuaded to come and 
try what camp life was like, and to 
see a little of this wonderful sport 
which they found from experience 
was apt to draw men aw^ay from their 
most solemn engagements. ^^ Pig- 
sticking " was a talisman that appa- 
rently entitled men to break off an 
acceptance to dinner, or to disappear 
in the middle of a dance, to drive off 
in their dak gharri to some distant 
meet. 

The light rains which usually fell 
about Christmas-time had not come, 
consequently in the middle of the 
day the sun was powerful, and pig- 
sticking was only carried out in the 
mornings and afternoons. 

To-day, although none of the heat 
of the midday sun was able to pene- 




THE ORDEAL 
trate through the massive foliage of 
the mango-trees and the double fly 
of the roomy tent beneath them, 
Miss Edna seemed in a restless 
mood. She could not sit down to 
write, as her mother did, long screeds 
to their men-kind at home, nor was 
she gifted with the power to sketch 
the sunny view outside their door ; 
her banjo lay neglected in its case, 
and the latest novels failed to-day to 
attract her. 

" What is it, my dear ? " asked 
the patient mother for the fourth 
time, looking up from her letter- 
writing. 

" It is this, mamma. I am not 

going to leave India — I know it." 

She was standing at the moment, 

with her hands clasped behind her, 

86 







OF THE SPEAR 
staring out at the sunlit scene ; then 
she turned suddenly to her mother, 
and with unwonted vehemence ex- 
claimed, ^* I've been a fool. I can- 
not help it. I have let myself fall in 
love. I never thought about it — I 

never foresaw it. And now " she 

paused, looking out again across the 
sea of yellow grass. 

Her mother had laid aside her pen 
and taken off her glasses, scarcely 
surprised, but beaming, anxious to 
hear more. ''Well, my dear, and 
why not ? I have long seen how he 
admires you. And as for not leaving 
India — that would be about the first 
thing you would do. He has told 
me how he wants to retire from the 
army as soon as he can get a good 
excuse — to go and live in his own 
87 








THE ORDEAL 
family mansion, a superb place from 
what " 

" Mamma," interrupts poor Edna, 
almost tearfully, ^* it is not ^ the 
Devil ' I am in love with — I wish it 
were ! It is the ^ Deep C. ! ' " 

To say that she was taken aback 
would scarcely express the state of 
mind into which Mrs. Clay was 
thrown by this avowal. In vain she 
sought for words to express her pro- 
test ; this match between her daughter 
and the Honourable Jack Austin, 
better known among his friends as 
" the Devil," she had fondly pictured 
to herself, and secretly and very 
cautiously had furthered to the best 
of her ability. For what other reason 
had she, at her time of life, left the 
comforts of a well-ordered house in 









B 



OF THE SPEAR 
Meerut for the unknown ills of camp 
life, but that Jack Austin would be 
of the party of pig-stickers in whose 
company she and Edna were to be 
thrown ? Her dream, which had 
seemed about to culminate in reality, 
had been shattered at one blow, and 
she could scarcely for the moment 
realise the fact. 

"And the 'Deep C too— of all 
people!" This was Major Calvert 
of the 6th, a dark, handsome, but 
taciturn man. "Whatever could Edna 
see in him ? " were points that sug- 
gested themselves to her mind. 

" But, my dear child," she urged 
aloud, considerately putting in the 
second place that which she con- 
sidered very much in the first, 
" Major Calvert is so — so staid ; and 
8g 




i 



m 



tyM 






^^ 




THE ORDEAL 
Mr. Austin is Lord Ravensham's 
heir, you know." 

" I know, I know all that. And I 
like ^ the Devil ' better than I liked 
any one before. He is, for one thing, 
a gentleman. Only yesterday he was 
telling me all about his home and his 
people. His mother and sisters must 
be sweet. And I thought then how 
lovely it would be — but to-day, I see 
that it is impossible." 

Edna here sank down into a low 
chair, and, after toying for an instant 
with a paper-knife, resumed her 
troubled gaze on the distant scene, 
resting her chin upon her hand. 

The mother, in her confusion of 
mind, remained silent, and the girl 
presently continued her almost sad 
confession. 

90 




OF THE SPEAR 



*' Yes ; I had always looked on 
Major Calvert as the best of my 
friends, as he was Mr. Austin's. 
Indeed," she added, with a slight 
laugh, ^' I would almost sooner have 
gone to him for advice in a difficulty 
than to you, mamma. With him I 
always felt that I was with an old 
friend. To-day, coming back from 
pig-sticking on the elephant witli 
him, I was chaffing him for being so 
staid, when in reality his mind is full 
of fun. Then I saw a look cross his 
eyes that made me ask — without 
thinking — if he was in any trouble. 
He told me then the sad sorrowful 
little story of his life, which he has 
never spoken of, even to Mr. Austin. 
And when he told me that it was my 
kindness and sympathy had drawn 
91 




THE ORDEAL 
him out, I thought what a prize he 
would be to any one as her helpmeet 
for life. Now I know that I love him 
as I never cared for any man before. 
And yet " — with a fluttering sigh of a 
laugh — '* I suppose he would not 
look at me ! " 



In the meantime, while this con- 
versation was going on between Mrs. 
Clay and her daughter, in the neigh- 
bouring camp Jack Austin and Cal- 
vert were, by way of smoking to- 
gether, in the latter's tent. I have 
never heard who first called them^'the 
Devil" and the "Deep Sea." Though 
unlike each other in very many 
ways, they were an unusually good 
pair of friends. If you fell out with 
one — which was not an easy thing 
92 






OF THE SPEAR 
to do — you fell out with both. Jack 
Austin, "the Devil," was a cheery, 
light-hearted, typical British sub- 
altern, ready for any game that was 
going, while Major Calvert, " the 
Deep C," though a keen sportsman 
and full of dry and — what is not 
always the same thing — kindly hu- 
mour, was of a quiet disposition, 
avoiding rather than courting society, 
and was therefore credited with 
having some character below the 
surface. Many a man, indeed, has 
passed as a clever one before the 
world simply because he has been 
wise enough not to let out to w^hat 
extent he is a fool. 

Why the two men should have 
become such peculiarly good friends 
it is difficult to see, as theoretically 
93 E 






THE ORDEAL 
like to the like is the proper apposi- 
tion ; but, as a matter of fact, this 
does not work out in practice, where 
like with the unlike very often hit 
it off completely and satisfactorily. 
Such had, in fact, happened in this 
case. 

In their tent this morning, after 
the events of the morning's pig- 
sticking had been discussed, there 
had been very little conversation 
between them ; both had sat silently 
smoking for some time, which, after 
all, is the way of good friends. Sud- 
denly the Devil broke the silence by 
exclaiming, ^^ Look here, Bloggs " — 
Bloggs was the name by which he 
usually addressed Major Calvert 
when not on parade — '* I am tired of 
soldiering. I've hung on a bit hoping 
94 





OF THE SPEAR 
to see a little service, but British 
cavalry seem to be too carefully 
bottled up nowadays for one to have 
a chance of it. You have been lucky, 
and so, perhaps, you can't enter into 
my feelings. But that's how it is, 
and I'm going to send in my 
papers ! " 

'^ My dear chap, I quite agree with 
you about our fine old crusted 
cavalry, but a day may yet come ! 
And besides, I don't see exactly why 
this sudden resolution, noWy with the 
pig-sticking and polo tournament 
just coming on. You haven't had to 
do orderly officer 'more than three 
days a week on an average,' as Mr. 
Glimmer would say — what has put 
your back up ? " 

'< Nothing has put my back up. 
95 




THE ORDEAL 

It's the other way. I'm going to ask 
Miss Clay to be my wife." 

** Good heavens ! " This came 
with so sharp a change of tone 
from Calvert that Austin almost 
jumped round in his chair to look 
at him. 

'* What is it, old chap ? Do you 
know^ anything against it ? " cried 
Austin. 

No — at least, not exactly — except 
that — well, I had intended to do the 
same thing myself." 

'^You !" 

*^ Yes, but it never struck me that 
yon were meaning anything that way. 
I never thought " 

Then both relapsed into silence 
for a moment, till Austin summed up 
the situation w^ith the remark ; 
96 






A VETERAN HAND AT THE GAME 





OF THE SPEAR 

" Well, by gum, we are in a queer 
hilt ! What is to be done ? " 

There was then a silence for so 
long that Austin, coming back to 
the actual situation first, exclaimed, 
" Bloggs, are you asleep ? " Calvert, 
who was lying back in an armchair, 
no longer smoking, merely flung 
back the word with some scorn in 
his tone, '' A-sleep ! " 

The Devil, finding that he had an 
audience, proceeded to give out his 
views : '^Well, I've been thinking it 
over, and I don't see a way out of the 
difficulty. You haven't asked her, 
you say ; have you broken ground at 
all?" 

** Yes, 1 have in a way broken the 
ice." 

" Well, then, we're no better off 
99 

M 








THE ORDEAL 
than before. For I've been prepar- 
ing her by telling her all about my 
people and prospects, and so on, 
though I've not asked her right out. 
But it seems to me she is very young, 
you know, and you're getting on a 
bit " 

"Thanks, Jack, but I'm not so old 
as all that ; and even if she took a 
man of my age, it would be better for 
her than being shackled on to a 
flighty young Devil like you." 

The Devil gave up this argument 
with a sigh, and lay back in his chair 
with his arms behind his head, star- 
ing at the ceiling for further inspira- 
tion. 

Presently Calvert continued : " No, 
my boy, I am perfectly fixed on it. 
But are you quite sure that you mean 

100 





OF THE SPEAR 
business ? May it not be with you 
one of those fascinations which 
you'll allow do come to you now and 
then ? " 

" No ; in those affairs I never 
speak of my people and prospects," 
retorted the Devil with proper pride. 

^^ Quite right. I even found a 
difficulty in speaking of my pros- 
pects, so gave her more of my past, 
from which she could herself evolve 
my character." 

" Your past ! Oh, by George ! 
then I give in. A man with a past 
is a hopeless chap to contend against. 
A girl will jump at him like a trout 
at a fly ; she don't care what his 
future is likely to be provided he has 
got a past 
we are as we were. 



Well, it seems to me that 











THE ORDEAL 

" We shall have to leave it to her 
to decide. But, look here, it is tea- 
lime over there ; we ought to be 
going. I don't see any use in cutting 
each other's throats over it ; but it is 
a hat ! " 

A few minutes later they were 
wending their way across to the 
ladies' camp, when Austin, who had 
been silent for some time, suddenly 
stopped Calvert and excitedly began, 
'* Bloggs, I see a way ! I was think- 
ing how evenly matched we are at 
this new game, just as we are said to 
be at polo and pig-sticking. If we 
leave the settlement of the thing to 
her we shall be working against each 
other all the time, we shall both ask 
her, which will be very uncomfort- 
able for her, and she'll have to say 




i^ 



m 




OF THE SPEAR 
* No ' to one of us, which will be 
— d uncomfortable for liitn. One 



is almost inclined to draw lots about 
it, but that is so jolly unsatisfactory 
for the loser. What do you say to 
having a match after a pig, you and 
I, and whoever wins to have first 
right to ask her ? I'm lighter than 
you, but then they say that a man 
over thirty is better at pig-sticking 
and polo than a young 'un, so that 
about makes us level. Your little 

Arab is " 

Calvert, who had smiled curiously 
at this new idea of the boy's, while 
his eyes sparkled at the sporting 
smack of it, now suddenly grasped 
Jack's hand and laughingly said, 
*^ Right you are, old boy ; let's have 
it that way. The ordeal of the spear 






THE ORDEAL 
shall decide who has the first right 
to ask her." 

That night at dinner it was known 
that ^'the Devil" and the "Deep C." 
were to ride a match after pig for a 
wager the following morning. An 
umpire was detailed to start them 
and to see fair play. Bets were 
made among such sportsmen as were 
that way inclined according to their 
several fancies, but on every hand it 
was admitted that there was not 
much to choose between the two 
competitors. 

At an early hour the beat was 
under way. The line of beaters was 
backed up by an imposing show of 
elephants. Upon these were mounted 
most of the sportsmen who were 
keen to see this match run off. In 
104 



OF THE SPEAR 
front of the centre of the line rode 
Jack Austin on his keen Httle Waler 
mare, " Lovelei," and Major Calvert 
on his Arab " Kismet," and in close 
attendance rode ^* old " Baynton, the 
collector of the district, a veteran 
hand at the game, and still hard to 
beat as a straight-going, deadly man 
after a pig. 

The ladies were not yet out, but 
an elephant had been left at their 
camp to bring them on when ready. 

The line slowly and quietly beat 
its way through the long grass of the 
Kadir plain, working gradually away 
from the tree jungle and the nullahs 
that fringe the edge of it. A few 
small pig were soon afoot, but 
nothing that Baynton considered 
rideable. 



to5 








THE ORDEAL 

Suddenly there arises a loud yelling 
from the beaters on the extreme 
flank of the line. Old Lutchman, 
the shikari, knowing of the match, is 
for once in his life excited. Standing 
on his elephant he holloas the party 
on, ^^ Willi jata hat I bnrni danU 
wallah ! " 

Baynton, clapping spurs to his 
horse, leads the way in the direction 
indicated, closely followed by the 
two riders. In a minute or so he is 
able to point out to them the form 
of a line young boar louping away 
through the yellow grass, back in 
the direction of the nullahs. 

"Do you all see him ?" he cries : 
" then, ride ! " And away go Jack 
and Calvert with an even start. 

The pig has got a good ofiing, and 




OF THE SPEAR 
is going at a very fair pace, so that 
they have a long, straight gallop 
before them to begin with. What 
are their thoughts at this moment it 
is hard to say, but possibly the sense 
of the importance of the occasion is 
already drowned in the more palpable 
delight of a racing gallop with the 
game in view. 

That they are both putting on an 
extra turn of speed is evident from 
the way they are leaving old Baynton 
behind, though he is by no means 
undermounted. Gradually, however, 
slowly and surely the weight begins 
to tell, and Jack shows a little ahead 
of his rival. Elated he presses on, 
steadily improving his lead. 

They are now nearing the boar, 
and he, laying back his ears and 
109 






THE ORDEAL 

giving a backward glance from the 
tail of his eye, cracks on his better 
pace and leads them a burster. 

Closer and closer to him draws 
Jack on Lovelei, with Calvert some 
three or four lengths behind. 

Now Jack gets ready his spear, 
and letting in knees and spurs, lifts 
Lovelei with a rush to the pig. At 
the same time the boar seems for a 
second to shorten his stride, but the 
next moment, when the horse is at 
its fastest and he at his most collected 
pace, he suddenly shoots off at right 
angles to his line, thereby gaining 
several lengths before his pursuer 
can turn. But this manoeuvre lets 
up the second man ; Calvert, quickly 
turning on to the new line, now 
rides the boar. Gradually and 

JIO 



m" 






OF THE SPEAR 
steadily he comes up to him ; his 
spear is ready ; the boar pricks his 
ears and gallops high as he shortens 
his stride. Calvert knows that a 
^^jink" is coming, collects his horse, 
and is ready for it when the pig sud- 
denly turns across his front. Round 
he comes on the instant in the same 
direction, and Jack, who is close 
behind, similarly turns to the left ; 
but before they have gone two 
strides the pig twists abruptly round 
again and leaves them both several 
lengths to the bad as once more he 
heads for the nullahs. 

Again it is a neck-and-neck race 
between the two riders, Calvert hav- 
ing a little the best of the start. In- 
deed, it is a ding-dong race between 
all three, for the boar has his head 




11 




THE ORDEAL 

set for the tree-jungle, which is now 
not far distant, and he knows that 
there Hes his only chance of escape. 
As they near the jungle, the ele- 
phant bearing Miss Clay comes out 
from among the trees, and she thus 
has an excellent view of the race, 
though little she knows how much 
its issue may affect her own future. 
Calvert is closing on the pig, and 
another stride or two should land 
him within spearing distance, when 
suddenly — whether in a buffalo- 
wallow or over a hard tussock — 
Kismet pecks heavily, almost on to 
his head; but though he recovers 
himself in a trice, the momentary 
check lets up Jack on Lovelei. 
Nor is he slow to take his chance ; 
cramming his horse to the front with 




OF THE SPEAR 
one extra spurt, he comes on the pig 
with a rush, and leaning low he 
drives his spear-point into the burly 
flank. It is not a good spear, but it 
counts as " first." 

At this moment for the first time 
he sees that Miss Clay, now close 
above them, is spectator of the 
game. The magnitude of what he 
had, in winning first spear, won, 
now dawns upon him, and as he 
tosses high his spear, his lungs give 
vent to an ear-piercing '^ who-hoop " 
of exultation. 

Calvert, probably too engrossed in 
the matter in hand to realise his loss, 
dashes in, and with a crashing stroke 
rolls the boar head over heels. But 
the trees are near ; the pig is up 
again and quickly in among them. 
113 F 





THE ORDEAL 
Here he gains a little on the men 
until an open glade is reached, 
where, finding that they press him 
still, he turns, and beginning with a 
shambling trot, breaks into a gallop, 
and with ears pricked and fire in his 
eye comes in at the charge. It is 
met with all the shock of a firmly 
held spear and a fast-moving horse, 
and he reels back repulsed but not 
daunted ; a second time he hurls 
himself against a foe, and a second 
time the deadly spear crashes into 
him. He can do no more. Dis- 
abled, he sinks on his haunches, his 
jaws, champing in anger, drop foam 
and blood. As his enemies once 
more approach he turns to face 
them, his little eyes gleaming red 
with rage, but he cannot rise, and a 

IT. 






OF THE SPEAR 
merciful spear through the heart 
drops the gallant beast dead. 

While Jack is loosing Lovelei's 
girths, he feels a kindly pat on the 
shoulder as Calvert says to him, 
" Well done, old boy ; go in and try 
your luck. It was a good run, wasn't 
it?" 



As they led their tired horses 
slowly back towards the open a 
native came hurriedly towards them 
from some neighbouring huts. With 
a scared face he told his story. 

In a few minutes they were stand- 
ing beside the body as it lay upon 
a common native charpoy. She 
looked almost as if she were resting 
after a bout of tennis. Her white 
frock and gay silk blouse were fresh 






ORDEAL OF THE SPEAR 
and scarcely dishevelled ; but there 
was an awkward uprightness about 
the small brown shoes ; her form 
seemed flattened down into the cot, 
and the unnatural sternness about 
the waxen face, with its half-closed 
eyes and parted lips, showed that 
Edna Clay was dead. 

Her elephant, frightened at the 
final rush and turmoil of the race, 
had turned and fled among the trees, 
to the instant destruction of the 
howdah and its occupant. 







THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 





WSi' 



mm 




THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 






N the smoking-room at 
Norreys Court, the 
other night, we had 
a great pig - sticking 
" buck." 

As is usual where a few Britons 
are gathered together, several of the 
party had visited India and knew 
something of the subject, but it 
struck me forcibly how ignorant, 
as a rule, are home-keeping sports- 
men of this and kindred Eastern 

sports. 

123 









THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
They seem to understand that 
some sort of sunshine of sport lies 
behind the veil of distance which 
separates England from India, but it 
is only occasionally that a ray breaks 
through the cloud — in the shape of a 
book or article — and gives them a 
gHnt of the glamour that lies beyond. 
India, in the matter of sport, has 
stood the test of time far better 
than any of her rivals. In early 
ages India and America proved 
equally attractive to adventurous 
sportsmen. But in America bison, 
grizzly, deer, and Redskin came to 
be gradually and effectively wiped 
out under the deadly bead-drawing 
of '' Old Rube " and his kind. 

Then arose South Africa as a rival, 
and although her day has been a 








THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
happy one, its sun is setting ; ere the 
next century has well begun, ad- 
vancing civilisation and improved 
breechloaders will have cleared off 
the elephant, rhino, lion, and buck 
that have made Africa so happy a 
hunting-ground these past sixty years. 
Yet India still maintains her head 
of game, and bids fair to do so for 
many years to come. From the 
North, with its Oves ammon and 
poli, bears and ibex, to the South, 
with its tiger, buffalo, sambur, and 
boar, the sportsman finds game 
worthy of his steel, in addition to 
abundance of the lesser kind of 
buck and bird, and fish and fowl. 
But, as an old doggerel has it. 

The sport that beats them o'er and o'er 
Is that wherein we hunt the boar. 
125 







THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
Pig-sticking is the acknowledged 
king of Eastern sports, and there are 
many reasons why it should and 
must be so. 

For one thing, it demands the 
assistance of the horse, and this in 
itself commends it more particularly 
to the Anglo-Saxon race. Then it is 
one of the few sports in which the 
hunter is almost alw^ays associated 
with others of his kind. In most 
big-game expeditions the shooter is 
attended only by a few trackers or 
beaters — more guns would spoil 
sport ; and, although there may be, 
and is, a certain charm for a time in 
such solitary life, yet eventually the 
sportsman cannot but long for com- 
panionship of his fellows in his 
evening camp. Nor is it good for a 






^^ 







THE KING OF EASTERN SPORTS 







THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
man to become accustomed to a 
solitary life ; Englishmen are already 
misanthropical and reserved enough 
in all conscience, without such fur- 
ther training. In pig-sticking, on 
the other hand, the hunters live, 
and move, and hunt in parties ; and 
yet individual excellence is as 
necessary as ever to success, 
while it gains the additional spice 
born of friendly rivalry with one's 
fellows. 

Again, the risks and chances, 
which after all form a great part 
of the charm of most wild sports, 
are in pig - sticking incomparably 
greater than those in ordinary tiger- 
shooting ; that is to say, tiger-shoot- 
ing from an elephant, for I do not 
look on that carried out on foot as 
129 








THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
anything but foolhardiness, except 
under special circumstances. 

Moreover, the quarry is not only 
fast and crafty, but he is also plucky, 
powerful, and cruel ; he enters fully 
into the spirit of the chase, and he 
will generally give you a good fight 
as well as a good run for your 
money. 

That pig- sticking has an affinity to 
the sport of all true British sports- 
men — viz., fox-hunting — cannot be 
denied, but that there exists a neck- 
and-neck resemblance between them 
is not so easy to see. Yet much 
midnight oil and gas, liquid and 
tobacco smoke, have been consumed 
in country-house billiard-rooms over 
the discussion and comparison of 
their respective merits. 




THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
As a matter of fact, pig-sticking 
may equally claim an affinity with 
polo and with racing. And to the 
glorious attractions of these it adds 
a taste of the best of all hunts — 
namely, the pursuit, with a good 
weapon in your hand, of an enemy 
whom you want to kill. 

In pig-sticking every man rides to 
liuntf whereas in fox-hunting the 
majority (although for some occult 
reason they will seldom own to it) 
hunt to ride. The first part of a pig- 
sticking run partakes rather of the 
nature of a point-to-point race, since 
each man is endeavouring to be first 
to come up with the pig, and so to 
gain the honours of the run ; and, 
while keeping one eye on the object 
in view, he has to keep the other on 
131 




THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
the doings of his rivals, so far as the 
elation of a glorious gallop will allow 
him. 

When the "first spear" has been 
won, the dodging and turning and 
quick rallies required for fighting the 
boar have no little resemblance to 
the galloping melee of the polo-field, 
till, with your worser passions roused 
as the grizzled old tusker pits himself 
against you, you meet charge with 
charge, and, blind to all else but the 
strong and angered foe before you, 
with your good spear in your hand, 
you rush for blood with all the ecstasy 
of a fight to the death. And then : 

All's blood, and dust, and grunted curses. 

Well — this is a different thing from 
the pleasurable enjoyment to be 




THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
derived from a gallop with hounds 
in a peaceful English county. Yet 
in the Indian sport — for all its ex- 
citement — you do not get the home 
surroundings, the stretching gallop 
over fences and grass, the keen air, 
the neighbourly pageant, and all the 
halo of Old Englishness that go to 
make fox-hunting the lovable sport 
it is. Indeed it is only after testing 
other sports that you really appreciate 
to the full the beauty of this more 
homely one. 

I suppose that in all the notable 
events of a man's life he remembers 
his first better than any subsequent 
experience. On me personally my 
first hog-hunting day is very indelibly 
impressed : not that it was a specially 
eventful day as hog-hunting days go, 





^ 

h 





THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
but the novelty of the sport appealed 
to me very forcibly, and the picture 
remains. I see now the sunny yellow 
grass jungle, and the brown, strong- 
shadowed coolies beating through it 
with their discordant jangle of cries 
and drums. Suddenly a ^' sounder " 
of smallish pig tumble out and file 
away across the open. My first view 
of wild pig, and a most disappointing 
one! Was this, then, the ''mighty 
boar " they talked of so much ? But 
a moment later a form, that at first 
looked like that of a donkey, caught 
my eye as he stood surveying the 
country from the edge of the jungle. 
This ivas a boar. He was watching 
one of our keenest beginners rest- 
lessly hovering about in a way that 
would have successfully headed back 
134 









THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
any timid-minded animal ; but this 
boar was an old warrior ; with an 
inquisitive look he stepped into the 
open and trotted towards our trio ; a 
moment later he started into a louping 
gallop with ears pricked forward and 
head low, and before our friend could 
manage to turn his spear in the 
enemy's direction the pig had dashed 
in, cut his horse's legs from under 
him, and had sent steed and rider 
rolling in the dust. Then he turned 
with a knowing shake of his head, 
and trotted gaily back to the cover, 
whence all further persuasion failed 
to move him. 

Later on a party of us, all griffins, 

got away after a full-sized pig ; in 

turn we managed to get up to him 

and to plant our spears in his body 

135 G 









in 



THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
and back ; but we planted and left 
them there as beginners are prone to 
do, so that in a few minutes our pi^ 
soniewliat resembled the fretful por- 
cupine or a giant pincushion, while 
we could only ride near him empty- |^ 
handed. Whenever he faced us we 
fled, not exactly from fear, but from 
a desire to save our teeth and noses 
from the leaded spear-butts that 
nodded and swayed above him. 
Finally, getting tired of the sport, he 
dropped a spear, which enabled us 
to give him his coup dc gnicc. And 
then, to our horror, we discovered 
that he was not a ^' he," but a " she," 
after all ! And so heinous a crime 
is the killing of a sow that we swore 
to keep our misadventure dark, 
although we had every excuse for 
136 





i 




THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
our mistake, since she looked all over 
like a boar and, as is often the case 
with barren sows, carried tushes. 
The crime happened many years ago, 
but the shame of it has hung over 
my life ever since, and now in con- 
fessing to it openly for the first time 
I feel a heavy cloud is lifted from my 
conscience. 

Among the several spears hanging 
in honourable retirement on my wall 
there is one whose shaft is split for 
some three out of its six feet of 
length. And by that split there 
hangs a tale. 

Two of us were out in camp 
together, more for shooting than for 
pig-sticking ; still we had our horses 
and spears with us. Our tents were 
pitched in a delightful spot on the 
137 









THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
high-wooded bank of the Jumna. 
Close to us lay our hunting-ground, 
rough grass country with occasional 
strips of thick jungle and frequent 
^^ nullahs " or dry watercourses. A 
preliminary glance at the ground 
overnight revealed signs of pig — in 
acres of upturned earth — so abun- 
dantly that we were forced to forego 
our shooting for the first day in 
favour of trying for a boar instead. 

Thus the early dawn found Naylor 
and myself posted at the point of one 
of the covers, while the coolies began 
to beat it from the farther end. Wait- 
ing in a state of keen expectancy, we 
could hear their shouts drawing 
slowly nearer and nearer, and our 
horses' hearts were beating quick 
and tremulous between our knees. 
138 





^ THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 

Suddenly both horses fling round 
their heads with ears pricked ; they 
^^J are trembhng in every Hmb with 
^ excitement. There he stands — not 
thirty yards from us — a grand grey 
boar with yellow curling tushes, and 
1^^ his cunning savage little eye glisten- 
ing in the broad morning sunlight. 
He is listening to the distant sounds 
of the beaters, and does not see us. 
We — scarce daring to breathe — sit 
motionless as statues, with all our 
eyes, all our senses fixed on him. 
He moves a few paces forward, and 
pauses again to listen. Will he 
never go ? 

At last an extra loud chorus from 

the approaching line decides him ; 

he swings round, trots for a few 

paces, and then breaks into a rough 

139 









^^ 



THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
tumbling canter away across the 
open. 

Now we cautiously gather up our 
reins, slide our feet home, and pre- 
pare to follow so soon as he has got 
sufficiently far from the cover as not 
to be tempted to double back on 
finding himself hunted. It is a case 
of Mr. Jorrocks counting twenty-one 
very much drawn out, till Naylor at 
length gives the word to go, and we 
bound away together after the great 
louping form now distant a good 
I quarter of a mile away over the 
yellow grass. Our horses are mad 
keen for the fray, and as one tears 
through the fresh cool air all bodily 
weight seems to leave one's extre- 
mities and to be concentrated into a 
great heartful of elation. One realises 
140 





THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
then how good it is to be ahve. On 
we go with httle to check our pace 
but an occasional grip to fly ; pre- 
sently, however, my horse begins to 
show that, whatever my own impres- 
sions may be, he, at any rate, does 
not realise any material change in my 
actual avoirdupois, and I gradually 
find myself dropping behind Naylor 
in the race. Nearer and nearer we 
draw to the pig, and at last Naylor 
turns his spear (we are riding with 
the short or over-hand jobbing 
spear) ready to take the first blood. 

But there's many a slip. The old 
pig is still cantering along in his de- 
liberate yet far-reaching stride, look- 
ing to a novice as though he had not 
seen us ; but he knows, his ears are 
laid back, and one eye or the other 
141 





THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
is continuously glancing behind him 
to watch our moves. 

At last Naylor's chance comes. 
Closer and closer he edges to the 
boar ; an extra spurt, and he is 
nearly on to him. The boar gives a 
half-turn to the right, and quick as 
thought Naylor's horse has turned 
with him — but the boar's half-turn is 
but for one stride ; in the next he 
whips round at a right angle to his 
former course, and Naylor's spear- 
head dives bloodless into the sand a 
yard behind him. Riding twenty 
yards behind Naylor I am able to 
turn my horse more rapidly on to 
the new direction, and I gain a good 
start by cutting the corner to head 
my quarry. As I approach his in- 
tended line the boar cocks his ears, 
142 




^ 

m 






THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
alters his course a point towards me, 
and, as though projected by some 
hidden spring, is suddenly close 
under my horse's girths. My spear- 
point is just down in time ; by good 
luck rather than good management 
it plunges in between his shoulder- 
blades, and 1 crash it down with all 
my force, while my horse cleverly 
jumps the snorting monster. But 
the spear is jammed in the boar, and 
as he rushes beneath me he tears it 
from my hand, and staggers onward 
with the shaft standing on him. Nor 
does he go far, for his blood is up, 
and when Naylor hastens gaily after 
him, intent to kill, the enraged old 
brute turns staunchly to him and, 
with every bristle pricked and tushes 
chapping, makes towards his enemy. 



m 
1^ 







THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
But Naylor's horse, with staring eyes 
and frightened snort, whips sharply 
round, and will not face this fear- 
some foe. For a moment the pig 
marks the man's discomfiture, and 
then turns to profit by it. At 
a sturdy trot he pursues his way 
towards the jungle looming large 
ahead. Once more, and yet again, 
does Naylor try a fresh attack, 
always with the same result. Each 
defeat, however, has brought the 
boar much nearer to his refuge, so as 
a last resource I take over Naylor's 
spear and press with all the speed I 
can command to overtake the pig. 
He has but twenty yards to go when 
I am on him. He flies along, nor 
deigns to turn. Ah, friend, I have 
thee now, upon the hip ! I close 
Hi 




m 



,M 







THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
with him, and jam the spear down 
fiercely on his burly back ; the spear- 
head slips aside. Again I try, with 
like result, and an instant later the 
thorny bushes close behind him and 
bar my farther way. 

We quickly make our plans, and, 
posting ourselves en vedette on either 
side of the cover in which he hides, 
we watch against his least attempt at 
escape. 

Presently the coolies join us, and 
while one goes back to the camp for 
a fresh spear for me, we get the blunt 
one fined upon a local sharpening- 
stone. A grateful interval of refresh- 
ment, and then, re-armed and rested, 
we set the beaters on to drive him 
forth once more. But this is no easy 
job. He cares not for their drums 
147 







THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
and threats, but when they near him 
charges and breaks through their 
Hne, to nestle into some thick bush 
behind them. They turn again and 
treat him to an infernal serenade. 
Suddenly their monotonous yelling 
takes another tone ; there is a con- 
fused babble of talking, a hush, and 
then a succession of somewhat more 
coherent shouts, from which we can 
gather that ^' old Buldoo is killed by 
the boar." The beating ceases, and 
the coolies come huddling out of the 
bushes carrying one of their number 
between them. Of course he is not 
killed, nor anything like it ; but his 
friends hope that he is, seeing in his 
decease a possible division among 
them of eighty rupees consolation 
money from us sahibs. Poor Buldoo 
148 





^; 







THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
has, however, a horrid circular gash 
inside the thigh, which has Hfted a 
flap of flesh from a suflicient depth 
to show the bone. Such a wound on 
a white man would make a ghastly 
show, but not so on the darker 
Hindu skin, nor indeed is there 
much flow of blood. Such as there 
is we soon stop, and, using the 
needles and silk, carbolic, and com- 
press from the handy little St. John's 
Ambulance wallet in our belt, we 
soon have him well patched up and 
homeward bound, comfortably in- 
stalled upon a native bedstead from 
a neighbouring melon - gardener's 
hut. 

Then for the first time my shikari 

steps forward, grinning, and holding 

in his hand the spear I had lost in 

149 









THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
the pig. The boar, in charging 
Buldoo, had brushed close past 
himself, so that he was able to grip 
the spear with both hands and to 
wrench it out. But the shaft was 
split beyond repair. Once more the 
coolies form to beat the cover, and, 
whether it is some innate pluck or a 
stoical submission to fate that guides 
them, one cannot but admire the 
way in which they proceed, unarmed 
and on foot, to tackle a brute who 
has ten to one the best of them in 
the jungle. Naylor, too, dismounts, 
and is going in with them, spear in 
hand, leaving me to ride the boar 
should he break ; but at this moment 
excited shouting from a shepherd on 
a neighbouring knoll informs us that 
our wily quarry has taken advantage 
150 



r T f^h 




HE WAS ABLE TO GRIP THE SPEAR 








THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
of our preoccupaUon and has quietly 
slipped away. In a few seconds we 
are on the knoll, and thence we see 
our friend lobbing away across the 
plain (as Mr. Cruickshank used so 
expressively to describe it), '* like a 
carpet-bag tumbling along end over 
end." For a second time we have a 
glorious but an all too short burst in 
the open, and again Naylor forges 
well ahead of me. However, the 
pig is in no humour to give us a 
gallop ; when he finds that we are 
overtaking him, he stiffens his stride, 
and, dodging in his course for a 
moment or two, he suddenly turns 
and comes at Naylor ^^like a thousand 
of bricks," *^ with murder in his eye." 
But he has not reckoned on the 
sharpened spear, and as he bounds 
153 





THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
for the horse with his head on one 
side to dehver the gash of his razor- 
sharp tusk, the spear-point catches 
him fair in the shoulder and rolls 
him over in the dust. He is on his 
legs again immediately, and, furious 
with rage, turns and comes at once 
for me. He is a grand specimen 
of sturdy savage pluck as he bristles 
up large towards me ; but he gives 
one little time for admiration as he 
plunges headlong at the horse. A 
good point into his back scarcely 
stops the impetus of his rush, and a 
quick upward twist of his head, as if 
merely to look at me, results in an 
ugly slit in my horse's shoulder. 
But the boar himself is now sorely 
stricken. Close to him is one of 
those curses of the Indian hunting 
154 



THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
countries, a deep "nullah" or dry 
watercourse some twenty feet wide 
and ten feet deep, with steep sides. 
Into this he plunges, and when we 
reach the edge we see him creeping 
into the cover of a big thorn-bush in 
the bottom. We note that imme- 
diately above the bush the sides 
have toppled in and have completely 
blocked the ravine. So, moving a 
few yards down the bank, we dis- 
mount, leave our horses,and scramble 
down, spear in hand, into the bottom 
of the nullah. Then we advance 
shoulder to shoulder towards the 
bush, and from a distance of ten 
yards or so we hurl two or three 
clods into it. Presently there is a 
rustle, and our friend quietly sneaks 
out on the far side, trotting lamely 
155 H 



m 




m.m 



THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
up the nullah till he finds his road 
barred by the fallen walls. Then he 
turns and faces us, his little eyes 
sparkling red with rage, blood well- 
ing and glistening down his shoulder, 
his broad nose dry and dusty, and 
blood and slime dropping from 
his panting jaws. His picture is 
photographed on my mind, but the 
photograph is an instantaneous one ; 
for in a moment more his ears are 
pricked, his mane is on end, and 
he comes towards us at a sham- 
bling trot ; at five yards distance 
he changes to a gallop, and rushes 
blindly at us. Our spears are low, 
there is a shock, we are both hurled 
back against the side of the ravine. 
Then in the cloud of dust we see 
the boar on his knees at our feet, 









THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
both spears planted in his chest and 
shoulder. He essays to rise, but falls 
back upon his side, and one more 
spear-thrust into his heart finishes 
off as game a boar as ever ran. 

Well ! this is not fox-hunting, but 
it is something that is very good. 

In regimental orders one evening 
there appeared the notice that the 
regiment was to parade, mounted, 
next morning at daybreak, carrying 
full water-bottles and ten rounds of 
blank ammunition per man ; rations 
to go out by cart ; and, last but not 
least, " officers and troop sergeant- 
majors may carry hog-spears in place 
of swords." A most unique and 
eventful field-day resulted. 

The jungle, a large tract of heavy 
grass and jhow (tamarisk) bush, was 





THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
attacked with all military precaution 
and completeness. 

The regiment proceeded through 
it in line at half-open files ; patrols 
of four officers each were posted or 
moved well in advance of the line, 
so that when a boar was scared by 
the noise of the approaching line, 
then one of these patrols nearest to 
him would ride after him and en- 
deavour to bring him to account. 

So successful was the operation 
that in a short time each of the 
parties was away after its separate 
boar. Still pigs were seen to be 
running away ahead of the line with 
no one to hunt them, till the colonel, 
who had hitherto been directing the 
operations generally, gave the order 
for certain non-commissioned officers 
158 




?. 







TOMMY ATKINS PIG-STICKING 





THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 

to take patrols of men with them and 

see what they could do with their 

swords against the pigs. In a short 

time several of such parties were to 

be seen scouring across country in 

full pursuit of the common foe. To 

say that they enjoyed it would in no 

way express their excitement and 

delight. 

They galloped here, they galloped there, 
They fought, they swore, they sweated. 

In a word, they had a glorious time, 
albeit when the ^* Rally " sounded 
the bag — beyond those killed by the 
spear parties — was not a large one. 
Still, w^hen all was over, the horses 
groomed and fed, and the men at 
their dinners and free to talk, the 
babel in the bivouac was almost 
ludicrous, since every man at once 
i6i 







THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
was keen to tell his tale of personal 
adventure with the Indian piy 
Here one was stating how his troop- 
mare, C i6, had turned her tail upon 
the advancing foe, and with her iron- 
shod heels had sent his front teeth 
rattling down his throat. And there 
another, a budding Munchausen, was 
relating how he stood the attack of 
"not only one, but four bloomin' 
swine, all of a go," and how all 
single-handed and alone he had 
beaten them off. It was a day that 
was talked of for months afterwards 
in the regiment ; and though this 
one experience can have done no 
more than give the men a momentary 
taste of the ecstasy of a fighting 
gallop, pig-sticking is nevertheless 
par excellence a soldier's sport ; it 



THE SPORT OF RAJAHS 
tests, develops, and sustains his best 
service qualities, and stands without 
rival as a training-school for officers ; 
nor is it ever likely to languish for 
want of votaries so long as boars and 
Britons continue to exist. 






ii 






i?^2 



HADJ ANO 





HE sun had set and 
darkness was coming 
on apace by the time 
we sighted the wel- 
come Hghts of Brown's farm. 

It was the second evening after 
landing in Tunisia, and the previous 
two days had been spent in journey- 
ing hither from Bizerta, through de- 
lays incident to mud, swollen rivers, 
poor mounts, and erratic guides. 

We " consisted of my interpreter- 
servant and myself. He was a Mal- 
167 






HADJ ANO 
tese whom I had taken on at Bizerta 
on the recommendation that he 
knew Arabic and had been a fireman 
on board an EngHsh steamer. He 
only joined me just as I was starting 
on the march with my two ponies. 
I presently found that his Arabic 
was merely the Maltese dialect of it, 
and his English was limited entirely 
to such words as he had been accus- 
tomed to hear in his capacity as 
stoker ; he had a very fairly com- 
plete vocabulary of oaths, and a few 
such phrases as *^ Stoke up," ^' Bank 
the fires," ^* Go ahead," '' Stop her," 
and so on. It is true he had one 
extraneous English sentence, '* She 
walks in the street," but this he used 
more as a form of salutation than 
anything else. 






HAD] ANO 

'^ Stoke up " came to mean, with 
us, ^' Pack up and march " ; ^* Bank 
the fires " implied we might halt and 
encamp ; and with this limited lan- 
guage, eked out with signs, we got 
along very well — all things con- 
sidered. At any rate, we succeeded 
in arriving at the right place — wet 
and tired, it is true, but satisfied in 
the result. 

On reaching the farm I found a 
note from Brown bidding me wel- 
come, and explaining that in his 
enforced absence in Tunis two 
French officers, who were also 
guests of his, would be glad to help 
me in the matter of sport. The 
officers, in fact, received me at the 
door, and did the honours of the 
house with the greatest goodwill ; 
169 





HADJ ANO 
but I missed from the scene the 
familiar form of Hadj Ano^ whom I 
had known there on previous visits. 
He was an educated, high-caste 
Arab, who acted as farm baihff to 
Brown. He was an Algerian Arab, 
and therefore a sportsman and a 
gentleman, and very far superior to 
the more servile local Tunisian 
natives. 

The following morning, soon after 
dawn, saw us on our way to the 
snipe ground which lay at the foot 
of Jebel Ishkel. This was a moun- 
tain whose purple crags rose high 
above the plain, very much like 
Gibraltar in appearance. 

What curiosities to me my French 
companions were ! And I, no doubt, 
was equally an object of interest to 








HADJ ANO 
them. Their get-up for snipe-shoot- 
ing was their uniform kepi and 
jacket; with baggy Hnen overalls, and 
capacious game-bags and guns slung 
on their backs, and they rode their 
corky, half-bred stallions in regi- 
mental saddles. 

The open yellow grass plains and 
the distant rounded mountains, in 
the crisp, clear atmosphere of the 
early morning, brought out a strong 
resemblance between this northern- 
most part of Africa and its southern 
extremity. As I jogged along with 
my two foreign companions, I 
seemed to be once more with my 
old Boer friends starting out on 
shooting horses for the veldt. But 
instead of the silent whiffing of Boer 
tobacco there came from my com- 




HADJ ANO 
panions an incessant jabber, and a 
string of questions as to whether, in 
passing through Paris and Marseilles, 
I had seen this or that singer or 
danseuse, and what were the latest 
stories now being told. 

This seemed to be the only 
interest, not only of this pair, but 
of half the officers one met in the 
colony. My present friends were a 
captain and his subaltern, both of 
them far older than would be the 
case in the similar grades in our 
army, and the captain was pretty 
well furnished with adipose tissue. 
Probably both of them had risen 
from the ranks ; at any rate, their 
intellectual training was not of a 
very high order, and their ability as 
horsemen was on a par with it. 
172 




THE CAPTAIN, WHO WAS LEADING. PUSHED IN FIRST 



HADJ ANO 
Presently we reached a river 
which had to be crossed before we 
came on our ground ; it was about 
fifty yards wide, and just fordable by 
a man on horseback. The captain, 
who was leading, pushed in first, 
while Pierre, the subaltern, jibbed 
on the bank. As the captain's horse 
began to clamber up the far bank he 
placed his back at such an incon- 
siderate angle as to permit of the 
rider slipping off over his tail into 
the muddy stream. Having thus de- 
posited his burden, the horse turned 
round and recrossed to rejoin us. 
As he ranged up near me I caught 
him and led him over again. Mean- 
time Pierre was still niggling vainly 
at his mount, which steadily de- 
clined to brave the water, and even- 






HADJ ANO 
tually I had to go back and fetch 
him along. 

At last we arrived near the snipe 
ground, and, when we had off- 
saddled and tied up our horses, we 
started to walk the bog in line. We 
had hardly taken our places before 
the birds began jumping up in front 
of us, and the promise of sport 
raised our spirits to the highest ; 
still, the birds were wild, and at first 
my shots were few and far between. 
Not so those of the Frenchmen, who 
fired on sight at every bird, distance 
being no object. But suddenly our 
sport was interrupted : a fiendish 
noise of neighing, screams, and 
snorting rose from the group of 
bushes where we had left our horses. 
The captain, who was nearest to that 
176 



Ip' 




HADJ ANO 
point, climbed on to the intervening 
bank, and, giving a mighty yell, 
dashed forward in the direction of 
the noise, quickly followed by Pierre 
and myself. And then we found that 
Pierre's horse had sHpped his head- 
collar and the captain's had broken 
away from the twig to which he had 
been tied, and the pair of them were 
now having a good set-to — hoof and 
tooth — as hard as they could go. It 
was a great fight, and was all the 
more amusing to watch, as the two 
owners kept skipping round, at a 
very safe distance, hurling stones 
and abuse with equal futility at their 
pugilistic quads. 

At length, by using huge branches, 
we succeeded in separating and se- 
curing the combatants ; and although 
177 




^^^ 




HADJ ANO 
they were covered with scratches, 
bites, and contusions — happily none 
of them were very serious — having 
tied them properly and out of sight 
of one another, we once more re- 
sumed our shoot. But it was in 
reality a hopeless game, for as we 
walked on we had to wait continually 
for one or other of the Frenchmen. 
The fat one was a slow mover, and 
the other was desperately afraid of 
getting bogged ; both talked inces- 
santly at the top of their voices, and 
fired whenever they could find an 
excuse ; consequently the snipe, of 
which there appeared to be any 
number, kept jumping up at eighty 
yards in front of us in a most dis- 
gusting manner. However, I noticed 
with great satisfaction that they did 




m. 





IT WAS A GREAT FIGHT 




HADJ ANO 
not go far; the majority of them 
pitched again in the end of the long 
narrow bog we were walking. 

Presently Pierre, through exces- 
sive caution, got bogged ; finding the 
ground on which he was standing 
quaky and yielding, he had stood 
still, fearing to move in any direction 
instead of stepping off ; and when he 
felt himself sinking his first act was 
to jam his gun-muzzle downwards 
into the mud, and his second to issue 
a succession of piercing yells which 
speedily brought us to his assistance. 
We soon lugged him and his gun 
from the slime — which, after all, was 
not by any means a dangerous bog 
— and deposited him on the bank to 
recover. Presently he reported him- 
self fit to proceed, but he elected to 





HADJ ANO 

move in line with us, remaining 
himself on terra firma. I earnestly 
begged silence now, as we were 
drawing up to the end of the beat, 
and for a short distance all went well 
save for the noisy floundering of the 
captain, who was rapidly getting 
rather done in spite of our slow pace 
through the hummocky reeds. 

Presently a great common heavy 
hawk flapped his way lazily over — a 
shout of warning from Pierre, and 
bang ! bang ! bang ! bang ! — four 
barrels of snipe-shot at fifty yards' 
distance had the effect of making 
him smile as he winked the other 
eye. It did not make me smile, 
especially when one of them, noticing 
that I had not taken part in the 
volley, said, in a tone of remon- 
182 



m. 



HADJ AND 
strance, "Surely it amuses to shoot 
the large bird ?" But I had my eye 
the while on the smaller bird, Mr. 
Snipe, and I could see him slipping 
away in twos and threes, and soaring 
high for a distant flight. 

At length, step by step, we drew 
up towards the end of the beat — it 
would soon be a matter for standing 
still to let the birds get up one by 
one : slower and slower we went. 
Suddenly Pierre on the bank began 
a hurried appeal at the top of his 
voice to us to come for a real chance 
of **gibier," and he started running 
along the bank past the end of the 
bog ; a moment later and the captain 
was pounding and splashing after 
him straight through the middle of 
the cover. Snipe were rising like a 
183 






HADJ ANO 
cloud of flies all round him ; the air 
was full of their ''scape" of alarm. 
For a moment or two I could not 
find words adequate to the occasion, 
and then I took myself, figuratively 
speaking, by the throat and held 
myself down till I was calmer. 

And what are these two idiots 
after ? I looked over the bank to see 
them stalking with elaborate pre- 
caution towards a bush on which 
were perched a flock of starlings ! I 
left them to their fun, and walked 
back myself through the bog, and 
succeeded in getting a few shots at 
birds we had walked over, and found 
myself with three couple in the bag 
by the time I got back to the horses. 

Here I was presently joined by my 
friends, who had succeeded in getting 
184 







m 




HADJ ANO 
a brace and a half of starlings, half a 
couple of snipe, and the same number 
of greenfinches. 

Then we saddled up and recrossed 
the river, this time without accident. 
Then when I proposed trying another 
little bog I knew of, the Frenchmen 
would not hear of it — for one thing 
they were evidently quite beat with 
their exercise up to date, and for 
another they argued that dejeuner 
would now be awaiting us at the 
farm. So I determined to try the 
bog by myself, in reality much 
relieved at their determination. 

I had not turned from them many 
minutes ere I noticed a small Arab 
evidently trying to overtake me. I 
waited for him, expecting he might 
have marked down some game near 
185 






HADJ ANO 
by, but he said not a word until he 
had come sufficiently close to touch 
my stirrup. Then, in a low voice, 
he asked in Arabic if I were English ; 
on my satisfying him on that score, 
he merely said, in a lower voice than 
before, *' Hadj Ano," and pointed to 
a distant clump of trees. I guessed 
that my friend must be there, and had 
sent this mysterious little messenger 
to tell me. So, accompanied by the 
boy, I rode in that direction, and 
as we approached the place a figure 
came out to meet us, which I soon 
recognised as Hadj Ano himself. 
He was a fine, tall, well-propor- 
tioned man of about forty, with 
the typical high-caste Arab features. 
Except for a turban, he was dressed 
in European shooting clothes, and 




HADJ ANO 
carried in his hand a gun belonging 
to Brown. He cordially greeted me 
(he spoke French like a Frenchman) 
and led the way to the grove. Here 
I found a delightful little camp of 
two Arab tents, one of which was 
occupied by the Hadji himself, the 
other by some three or four Arabs 
who were with him. 

In a few minutes some of these 
men had taken my horse and were 
grooming and feeding him, while 
another was preparing some food for 
me. 

After some mutual inquiries I 
asked the Hadji how he came to 
be camped out here instead of living 
in the farm as usual, whereat he 
laughed and said that he did not 
care for French officers, and while 
187 










HADJ ANO 
they occupied the farmhouse he 
preferred to camp outside ; and, 
knowing the dislike the Algerians 
have for their French masters, I 
thought no more of the matter. 
He said he had heard of my arrival, 
and had sent the boy to bring 
me to him if I should be working 
alone. 

We had an excellent dejeuner of 
Arab dishes, in which '' khus-khus " 
(a kind of semolina and chicken 
curry) figured as the piece de resist- 
ance, and after a short rest we 
started out for a bit of ground 
which Hadj Ano recommended — 
open stony ground with patches of 
tufty, coarse grass and clumps of 
thorn bushes, through which there 
meandered a stream which every 

i88 




^^dsi 



m 




HADJ ANO 
now and then opened out 
green, tussocky bog. 

It was ground that might and, as 
we very soon found out, did contain 
many varieties of game. Shortly after 
commencing our beat, with two Arab 
boys as game-carriers, we put up a 
fine Httle covey of partridges some 
distance out of shot, and almost 
immediately afterwards the Hadji 
knocked over a hare very neatly. 
Then there fluttered up from a bush 
between us a woodcock, and cross- 
ing me gave me an easy shot which 
brought him into the larder. A little 
farther another hare fell to my com- 
panion. Then we came to a small 
hollow, evidently well watered, filled 
with thorn bush, rank yellow grass, 
and a few green bushes which looked 





^dM 



^ 
•^1^ 



HADJ ANO 
like holly. Hadj Ano and I stationed 
ourselves outside this cover and sent 
the boys in to act as spaniels. Pre- 
sently, with a silent whisk, a rich 
brown woodcock flitted past me, 
and then so suddenly changed his 
course as to escape the shower of 
shot with which I saluted him. But 
no less than three more birds came 
out of the same spinny, two to me 
and one to the Hadji, and these were 
all accounted for. As we went on a 
tempting reach of reedy swamp re- 
ceived our attention, and here we 
had some very pretty snipe-shooting. 
Alert they were as in the morning, 
but they did not fly far on the first 
rise, and my present companions, 
keen and silent, were very different 
from the noisy Frenchmen. As a 
192 




WM 






HADJ ANO 
consequence we soon began to run 
up quite a little bag. We had no 
dog, but slow and careful walking 
got the birds up nicely, and the Arab 
boys were as sharp as needles in 
marking and retrieving fallen game. 
Anon we came to a long and narrow 
belt of thorn bushes lining both banks 
of the streamlet. Hadj Ano took 
one side and I the other, the boys 
working along in the bush, tapping 
as they went. Four shots at intervals 
from Hadj Ano's gun began to make 
me impatient of my own silence, but 
at last along bill rose within the thorns 
and came to my side, and gave an 
easy shot as he turned to wing along 
the side of the cover ; almost where 
he fell another rose, and gave a long 
shot for my left barrel. I should 
193 










HADJ ANO 
probably have missed him had it 
been my right, but, as it was, he too 
bit the dust. * 

On and on we went, getting every 
now and then a shot at cock, until 
at length the sun began to sink 
towards his setting, and we had 
wandered far from camp. Then we 
turned and, as far as the light would 
allow us, shot our way back towards 
the tents. Out of a reedy pool we 
got a mallard and his mate, and a 
little farther on a woodcock, probably 
a wounded one, rose from bare 
ground at our approach, and fell, 
after a twisty flight, to my second 
barrel. Soon after the sun had set a 
whistle of golden plover sounded sud- 
denly near, and as they rushed over- 
head we stopped a couple and a half. 
194 

m 




i 



© 



HADJ ANO 

That was our last and perhaps most 
satisfactory shot of what had been in 
the end a very satisfactory day. 

Darkness had set in before we 
reached the trees where lay our 
camp. As this was still some five 
miles from the farm, and my pony 
was feeling one of his legs after the 
marching from Bizerta, I gave way 
to the suggestion of Hadj Ano, and 
made up my mind to spend the night 
in camp. 

A note to this effect was despatched 
by one of his men to quiet the 
anxiety of my French friends at the 
farm, and I sat down with a clear 
conscience and an appreciative appe- 
tite to the repast prepared by the 
Hadji's cook-boy. Hadj Ano had 
meanwhile changed his shooting 
195 










HADJ ANO 
clothes for his native Arab dress, 
which he always wore at home. 

Then followed one of those de- 
lights which only come too seldom 
into one's experience — to lie at one's 
ease in the cold, clear night by a 
warm and cheerful camp fire. The 
restfulness of it appeals to every 
joint in the tired sportsman's frame, 
while his mind is amused by the 
quaint tales and plaintive songs with 
which the Arabs pass away an hour 
or two. 

Then, warm and sleepy, one rolls 
into one's blanket to sleep off all 
fatigue and gather fresh energy from 
the pure fresh air of one's bedroom 
under the stars. 

Often during the night, as is my 
wont, I awoke to glance around, and 
196 







HADJ ANO 
every time I did so I saw a watch- 
ful figure sitting near, or standing 
looking out across the plain be- 
yond the trees. It was only later 
on that I found out the reason for 
this vigil. 

Early in the morning I shot my 
way back to the farm alone, for 
Hadj Ano laughingly declined to 
accompany me to see the French- 
men. We parted with a cheery 
hand-wave, meaning soon to meet 
again ; but we have never met. 

A few months after this I chanced 
to read La Depeche Tunisiennef and 
came across a column describing 
how the police had made a raid on 
Brown's farm with the object of 
capturing ''the renowned convict 
Hadj Ano." My friend, it appeared, 










HADJ ANO 
had been a chief of high standing in 
Algeria, where, in accordance with a 
tribal custom, he had worked off an 
old family blood-feud with a neigh- 
bouring tribe, and, after a well- 
fought single combat, had slain his 
man. But he had forgotten that 
Algeria was now a civilised country 
— a part of France in fact — and the 
result was that 





The coroner he came, and the justice too, 
With a hue and a cry and a hullaballoo, 

and poor Hadj Ano was sent across 
the seas to expiate his crime on board 
the hulks in New Caledonia. 

By some means he ultimately 

effected his escape and returned to 

his people ; but, finding Algeria too 

dangerous to live in, in safety, with 

198 





HADJ ANO 





HADJ ANO 
a few trusted followers he moved 
across the mountains into Tunisia. 
Here he made the acquaintance of 
Brown, and his sportsmanlike and 
gentlemanly character, combined 
with his intelligence and education, 
made him at once a useful bailiff and 
a pleasant companion on the farm. 
His faithful people watched over and 
guarded him, and the country Arabs 
for miles round knew his story and 
passed him warning when French 
officials of any kind were moving in 
the direction of Brown's farm. At 
length fate went against him. Some- 
how, whether by bribery or other 
means I have never heard, the police 
managed to keep their movements 
secret, and having surrounded the 
farm during the night, seized poor 

201 










HADJ AND 
Hadj Ano at the dawn of day, and 
took him back to prison. 

What was his subsequent fate I 
have never heard. 



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